


Lost

by shadowsamurai



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-07 21:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/435456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsamurai/pseuds/shadowsamurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though they found and rescued him, Beverly still fears that Jean-Luc is lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Season 3 Episode 26 (The Best of Both Worlds Part 1), and Season 4 Episode 1 (The Best of Both Worlds Part 2). It's been quite some time since I saw these episodes last, so if this doesn't quite match up with the series, I apologise.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing things for a while and I promise I'll put everything back exactly how I found it when I've finished. Well, almost exactly how I found it. ;)

JLP-BC-JLP-BC-JLP-BC

She thought she had lost him. They all did. The image on the screen of the man they knew as their commanding officer, of whom they considered a friend, looking like…like he had…well, it had scared her. Scared her more than anyone else. Because they all loved him, but not like she did.

His eyes were lifeless, emotionless, cold, and his voice was the same, with a metallic edge. He didn't care whether they lived or died but he knew them. That was the problem.

When he was stopped and brought back to the ship, she tried everything in her power to save him. They all did. And miraculous, they managed to. He was the only human to ever have the Borg implants successfully removed; the only one to survive the procedure. That confirmed to the crew what they already knew; that their commanding officer was an extraordinary man.

They should have been feeling jubilant that he was back, but she couldn't be happy. He was back, true, and she felt relieved, but he wasn't the same. A piece of him had been lost to the Borg, kept by the Collective. He would heal, in time, but the memories would never go away.

But what had hurt her the most was the distance he put between himself and everybody else. It was almost as if he *resented* them for rescuing him. She didn't want to believe that was true but she couldn't think of any other explanation.

Sighing, she asked the computer for the time, then made her way to his quarters. She was making regularly checks on him, healing the skin where the implants had been as much as she could, pumping him with as much medicine as he would let her or that she could manage to get in him. That was her excuse for keep visiting him, anyway; deep down, though, she just wanted to reassure herself that he was still there. That it wasn't just a dream, that she wasn't going to wake up suddenly and find he was still missing. Still lost.

Standing outside his door, she shifted from foot to foot, waiting for him to answer. He didn't. She asked the computer where he was; the computer said inside his quarters. She bit her lip. Did she leave him alone or use her security clearance to open the door? The second option won after a small debate; she was the ship's doctor, it was her duty to make sure the captain was in good health.

The inside of his quarters were dark; she hesitated near the door to let her eyes adjust to the blackness. She didn't call him; if he was sleeping, she wanted to leave him that way.

Then she heard a slow, gentle noise, the sound of breathing, and she turned. He was sat on the couch, his head highlighted dimly by the passing stars. Her heart began to break. He looked so vulnerable; so lost. And she had no idea what to do. Was she there as a doctor, as a senior member of the ship's staff? Or as a friend? As *his* friend?

His head moved, turned towards her, and his eyes locked with hers. There were like they had been when he was Borg, but there was something else there now: fear. Suddenly she understood, she knew what needed to be done.

He didn't resent them rescuing him; he was worried that his experience would make him weak. That he would never fully recover and at the very worst, that he would lose his position in the fleet. He lived for his job; to take that away would be to murder him.

She moved across the room quickly, her hands clasped in front of her. She stopped near the coffee table, put her medical equipment down and took off her lab coat. Then she sat down next to him and turned to look at him.

For a while, he didn't move. Then slowly, his head swung round; there was moisture on his cheeks and his eyes were glistening. She didn't want him to stop crying - it was such a rare thing, and it would help him now - but she didn't want him to think it was a weakness. She wanted to reassure him and she found she could do that now. She could help him because she *knew* he would be alright now.

She stretched an arm out, behind him, encircling his strong, broad shoulders. There was no resistance as she pulled him towards her, his head coming to rest on her lap. She held him tightly with one arm as his body shook as he sobbed; her other hand stroked his cheek, soothing him.

She didn't make any noise, any sound at all; it wasn't necessary. He was drawing his strength from her presence, she could feel it. After a while, his sobbing lessened and his shaking eased.

He sat up and wiped his face roughly, his eyes never leaving hers. Without thinking, she put her hands on his cheeks, leant forward, and kissed him. There was nothing particularly romantic about the gesture; she was giving him a message without actually speaking any words. She was telling him that she would always be there for him; that whenever he needed to fall apart, he could do so comfortably in her presence and not feel ashamed by it.

And he understood the message. The backs of his fingers brushed her cheek as he pulled back, silently thanking her. Then he felt himself begin to shake again as the pent up emotion he had been carrying demanded its release.

As the tears started to fall once more, she lowered his head gently back into her lap, safe in the knowledge that neither of them were lost any more.

FIN


End file.
